


Shrine

by saarebitch



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saarebitch/pseuds/saarebitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A TMI Tuesday ask on Tumblr that turned into a smut prompt. The circumstances of the time Elain and Revas had sex in an ancient elven temple...while she was wearing the Mantle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shrine

“Think we’re going to need to let the Last Breath know?” Revas asked her as he wandered down the decrepit hallway of the nearly collapsed shrine to some goddess. Everything was so degraded, he couldn’t tell which one it was. The mosaics were long since chipped away, and the Wilderness crept into the inner sanctum that was once a wayshrine for travelers in the Old Empire.

Old was right.

“Of course. She’ll be livid if she doesn’t find out about some lost shrine that could be cataloged,” Elain called back, her voice bouncing off the empty hall, “But she’s far away, so don’t worry about it now. I want you to come see something!”

“What?” he called back as he looked over the crumbling walls again.

“You’ll see,” she answered, her voice now a song that floated like a hymn down these sacred halls.

That was an invitation if he ever heard one.

He smiled to himself, and made his way further and further into the shrine. The roof was still intact here, and though all the priceless treasures had been looted and desecrated in ages past, there was still an awe-inspiring beauty here that was undeniable. This had been theirs once; it was built by his People, his ancestors. Now the earth owned it. 

It really didn’t matter. He preferred the beauty Elain’s voice had promised anyways. He rounded a corner that led into some kind of antechamber, dark inside but for a low-burning brazier, and he almost didn’t see her at first. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out some kind of broken slab in the center of the room, with the Maiden sitting on it, poised in her Mantle. 

And nothing else.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked him coyly, her voice no longer a song, but a deep purr. Her bare legs dangled off the shrine, and slowly uncrossed themselves, opening her thighs up and inviting him to see sacred things, blessed things inside. The leather armor on his lower body seemed to become tighter, and the room became enticingly warm.

“It’s beautiful. The Goddess that was worshiped here had to have been adored.”

“I’m sure She was,” Elain answered, leaning back ever so slightly and exposing the round underside of her breasts from beneath the heavy fur of the Mantle, “What rites do you think Her supplicants performed?”

He loosed his belt, his leather bracers, his cuirass, “Rites of love, I suppose. Adoration. Maybe even pleasure.”

“ _Pleasure_ ,” her voice was not a song, not a purr, but now a velvet tongue against hot skin, licking up his spine and making him burn in anticipation, “Those are the rites I want to practice.”

“Sounds like sacrilege,” he commented, though he had no intention of stopping himself. He pulled his undershirt over his head and tossed it with the rest of his armor.

She opened her legs wider at his words, and the tightness against the leather of his legging grew nearly painful as his blood rushed to his cock.

“Since when do you care about the Gods, Revas?” 

Unlacing his leggings now, he let his cock out of its confining prison, and gripped it tightly as he watched her weave her magic in her words, in her movements, in the very air she breathed. When she leaned back more, and the dark pinkish brown of her nipple greeted him enticingly, it hardened even more in his hand and he groaned.

“I've only ever cared about one Goddess,” he confessed, truth as clear as glass, and just as sharp.

She laughed darkly, knowing she had him in the palm of her very capable of hand. The laugh was musical, her voice a song again. This time, it called to him, titillated him with promises of ecstasy if he would only follow it, and he followed blindly. If it meant crashing on her wet shores, her teeth sinking into him as her prey was more than worth it. 

“Then come worship Her.” 

He did not hesitate. When his goddess makes her demands, he has no will but to obey. His body yearned for her touch, and his lust consumed him quickly, like a swarm of locusts falling upon a field. Her open legs showed him his innermost desires, and her innermost secrets. 

Revas walked towards her, but she sealed the doors to her temple, shutting her thighs, and pointing at him with one accusing foot.

“On your knees.”

He grinned. The excitement, the heat of his blood pumping through him, and his eagerness to please her...she knew what he loved, what he so badly needed, and feel to his knees gratefully. She smiled back at him when he did, and reopened the soft doors again, allowing him to crawl towards the only thing he wanted to see for the rest of his days.

And all he wanted to taste from now until eternity in The Beyond. He approached her on his knees, then took her leg between careful hands and ran his lips up the expanse of it. The muscled calved, the sensitive skin behind her knee, the softness of her inner thighs...each a new sensation on his mouth and each brought him closer to godliness. 

When he at last reached the inner sanctum, he was almost reluctant to sip of her wine. Almost. But the lips of her cunt glistened with her arousal, and when he ran his fingertip up and down the length of her slit, she inhaled deeply and placed her hand on the back of his head. His Maiden wanted this, and whatever his Maiden wanted, she would get. 

He was ravenous. His mouth fell on her as if he were starved, opening over the length of it, slipping his tongue between the lips, coaxing her clit vigorously, and even sliding a finger inside her when her fingers tightened in his hair. Revas sang his own praises to her, head nestled between her legs, the song not in words, but in the hum of his moans as he tasted of her ambrosia. 

But Elain was not satisfied with just his mouth. She gripped his hair and pulled his face away from her slit, and brought his face up to meet hers. Her chest heaved as she panted, as she stared at him, before it was her turn to devour. She bit at his lips, his chin, his neck, her own moans filling his ears and making his cock throb, and to his greatest relief, she did not wait to be teased anymore. 

She pulled him flush against her with her leg on his waist, then reached down to guide his cock inside her. Her cunt enveloped him, and it was so hot, so wet, it felt like he had died and found himself in the golden fields of the Beyond, where there was no pain, no worry, only the delirious beauty of fulfillment.

He wondered if she felt filled when he thrust into her now. He wondered if she felt those golden fields as her head lulled back and he sucked on the vulnerable skin of her neck. He wondered if she felt this burning for him as strongly as he burned for her. 

Her nailed digging in his spine and breaking skin, drawing blood, said yes. Her eyes rolling backwards as he leaned over and took her nipple between his sharp teeth, said yes. Her hoarse cries of his name as he fucked the Maiden in her Mantle, her authority of power, said yes. 

Revas prayed to her with his teeth, with his lips, with his thrusting cock, and she answered them by rolling her hips to meet him, sharing her lips, and matching the sharpness of his teeth wherever she could reach. There would be marks on both of them, and he reveled in it.

“I’m going to come,” she gasped in his ear, her hips grinding desperately and her body flushing red. Her whole being went stiff as her orgasm flowed through her, and her cries were music again: a loud crescendo, cresting, peaking, then falling once more, and all for him. 

It was the sweetest song ever composed.

Revas felt his own peak building up in him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to fuck her harder. She gave a guttural moan as he did, nearly sending him over the edge. “It’s my turn,” he whispered to her.

“Finish on me. I want to see.”

It was his turn to moan from the wells of his soul, and he did as she asked, always what she asked,pulling his cock out abruptly, then stroking it swiftly until he was grunting his own release. His pleasure was white hot, flowing out of him nearly molten, and written all over her body with each throbbing spasm. 

When he was finished, he was left panting, his cock twitching in his hand, and his Maiden’s body now the altar in which he laid his gifts. Painted on her soft stomach, her rounded hips, even as far as her full breasts were the signs of his love, his loyalty, his utter devotion. She admired his gifts munificently, looking down on her body in delight, her eyes as heavy lidded but her smile telling. Her cheeks were flushed a beautiful red, and his heart swelled in want, even if his body couldn’t again so soon.

She caught his looks and rewarded him with a fake pout, her lips puckered preciously, “You’ve made a mess of me.”

“It’s what you wanted,” he laughed before kissing her full mouth. She laughed into his lips, but wrapped her arms around his neck.

“And you’re very good at giving me what I want,” she spoke quietly now, sweetly, a part of Elain only he got to see, “But now I want to be cleaned up. Go get me a wet cloth.”

He pulled himself away, and bowed deeply at the waist, “As you command, Peach.”

She pushed him off with her foot and a giggle, and he flashed her a grin before doing as she asked. But as he went to turn back down the hallway of the great shrine, he looked back at her once more, seeing her now reclining lazily on the strange slab as if she had always belonged there.

Sacrilegious to some, perhaps, but he couldn’t help but feel she would make a glorious Goddess.


End file.
